friends for necessaries; and by a bloody, cruel war between England and Scotland, which Bishop Pierce truly termed Bellum Episcopale, the bishops' war.'" All this can be strictly verified by contemporaneous history. Some were prosecuted for the violation of the canon-law; some for reprehending the practice of bowing at the name of Jesus; some for declaring against popish saints' days; some for omitting the cross in baptism; one for preaching more than an hour on Sunday afternoon. Another was suspended without any exhibited charge. Pierce, the Bishop of Bath and Wells; Wren, Bishop of Norwich; the Bishop of Chester, and others, seconded the efforts of Laud, with their whole power and influence. The case became fearful. Thousands emigrated to Holland, or to New England. So distasteful was this self-expatriation to the court, that the king issued a proclamation, declaring that none should be allowed to depart without testimonials of conformity. The infection of puritanism, nevertheless, spread extensively. Every measure adopted heightened the spirit of resistance to such monstrous oppression. The materials which had been long gathering into one huge volume of combustible matter were fired, at length, by the insanity of the king; and Laud, Strafford, prelacy, lords, and the king himself, perished in the tremendous explosion.

Never was there a more memorable series of events than that which led to this dire conclusion! It was truly a momentous conflict. Every high interest, as men understood the matter then, was involved. Right, liberty, religion, — that is, religion according to the Jewish polity, which was nearly as far as that age could go, were dependent on the issue. Men had greatly outgrown their governments. The feudal system was blown out, even to its last spark. There was a deep conviction of right, and that always makes men strong. A growing notion of a noble name, and of a self-perpetuating power, loomed before their eyes. That name and power are now embodied in the phrase, "the British people." But Charles I. little thought of this. He sought to be all that his predecessors had ever been. He dreamed not of pro

gress. He endeavored to back the fiery steed; but that task surpassed his powers. Irritated by the opposition, he had recourse to violence. He thought that will could do it! Blow succeeded to blow, and goad to goad, yet without effect. Therefore, with Laud and Strafford at his side, he had recourse to greater violence. The whip was more vigorously applied, the rowel went deeper, till the noble steed rose with one furious effort, threw off, by a sudden plunge, its mad rider, and left him dead! This is but metaphorically the course pursued by "the royal martyr" towards his people. "The advocates of Charles," says Macaulay, in that brilliant article which first gave him fame, “like the advocates of other malefactors against whom overwhelming evidence is produced, generally decline all controversy about the facts, and content themselves with calling testimony to character. He had so many private virtues! And had James II. no private virtues? Was even Oliver Cromwell, his bitterest enemies themselves being judges, destitute of private virtues? And what, after all, are the virtues ascribed to Charles? A religious zeal, not more sincere

than that of his son, and fully as weak and narrow-minded, and a few of the ordinary household decencies which half the tombstones in England claim for those who lie beneath them. A good father! A good husband! Ample apologies, indeed, for fifteen years of persecution, tyranny, and falsehood! We charge him with having broken his coronation oath; we are told that he kept his marriage vow! We accuse him of having given up his people to the merciless inflictions of the most hot-headed and hard-hearted of prelates; and the defence is, that he took his little son on his knee, and kissed him! We censure him for having violated the articles of the Petition of Right, after having, for good and valuable consideration, promised to cbserve them; and we are informed that he was accustomed to hear prayers at six o'clock in the morning! It is to such considerations as these, together with his Vandyke dress, his handsome face, and his peaked beard, that he owes, we verily believe, most of his popularity with the present generation."

CHAPTER IV.

PIONEERS OF LIBERTY.

"An honest soul is like a ship at sea,

That sleeps at anchor when the occasion 's calm,
But when it rages, and the wind blows high,
She cuts her way with skill and majesty."

He who has never visited the Chiltern-hills is ignorant of one of the most agreeable varieties of English scenery. The evervarying undulations of rapid hill and dale, the thick woods of beech, now hanging over the steep declivities and now distributing themselves over the rich meadows, the frequent abrupt turns which present points of scenery altogether unexpected, the pellucid springs, the steep ravines, and the richness of the long-extended vale of Aylesbury, which stretches itself out in a long channel of luxuriance, render this vicinity, though not often visited, one of special interest to every lover of nature in its undress. Not many miles distant from High Wycombe, in Buckinghamshire, and perfectly shut in amidst these lovely accompaniments, is an old ancestral mansion, connected in its history with one of the noblest biographies, that of John Hampden. The name is of itself an Englishman's inheritance. In these deep seclusions the patriot lived; here he nursed his soul for great actions; to this delicious spot his mind, jaded by public cares, often turned with fond longings; and here in death he has found, by the side of his cherished wife, a grave. What spot can furnish more attractive materials for a passing visit?

The family of Hampden was of great antiquity, coëval with the

earliest periods of authentic history. The name occurs in Domesday book, written Hādenā (Hamdenam). It is related that in the fourteenth century the family was one of the wealthiest in England. It is, moreover, told how one of the ancestors of Hampden, having quarrelled with the Black Prince in a game at tennis, struck his royal antagonist with the racquet with which he was playing. The offence was grave; the punishment was the loss of a hand. To avoid so serious a penalty, the offender gave to the prince in compensation three of his best manors, which gave occasion to the traditionary distich :

"Tring, Wing and Ivinghoe,* did go

For striking the Black Prince a blow ;'

and the memory of the rhyme furnished a title for one of Scott's most popular productions. By the last of these villages the Northwestern railway passes, immediately before reaching the Tring station, which itself stands in one of the manors so forfeited.

The family mansion of the Hampdens is of great antiquity. It has been altered many times. One of its chambers is still called King John's bedroom; not that it preserves any appearance of so ancient a time, but that it, or some part of it, once received that monarch during a visit to the spot. On one of the hills in the

cross, which may be

immediate neighborhood has been cut a white seen to a great distance, and bears the name of the White Leaf Cross, supposed to have been left as a memorial of the last battle of Hengist and Horsa with the Britons, when the Saxons planted their standard upon this eminence. The house itself, though bearing some marks of a later date, is of the age of Elizabeth, who directed one of her royal progresses hither; on which occasion the mansion was almost rebuilt, and its stately and extensive avenues planted. One of these, visible from the surrounding neighborhood, still bears the name of the Queen's-gap. The edifice is not large, nor perhaps convenient; but it has suffered no very exten

*Scott's memory failed him in the spelling.

sive alterations, and is a striking specimen, though in great dilapidation, of the architecture of the sixteenth century. The house is not seen till the traveller is just upon the spot, nor is its first view very imposing or even antique, its principal front having been repaired during the time probably of the earlier Georges, in the tamest style possible. But when it is approached on the side nearest to the little church which adjoins it, it is discovered to be a castellated mansion, adorned with grotesque and arabesque ornaments, and topped by tall and clustered chimneys, whilst noble cedars of Lebanon, of a great age, spread out their branches by its side, and trees of large dimensions throw their protecting shadows over its vicinity. One large forest tree is especially remarkable, —a huge elm,- under the shadow of which a small army might repose, more like an Indian banyan-tree than one of the vegetable productions of these degenerate latitudes, — full of verdure and vigor, and likely enough yet to last for centuries.

The inside of the house more than redeems the promise of its outside. A large hall, now called the billiard-room, has a carved balustrade running round, and forming a gallery which at once admits to the sleeping apartments, and which heretofore accommodated the members of the family, when they assembled as spectators of mimes or pageants below. The principal entrance exhibits a groined and coved ceiling, somewhat in the style of a crypt, but bearing traces of ancient splendor. The India room is fitted up with a superfluity of arabesque ornament, and is extremely beautiful, though very ancient. The richly-carved mantel-piece, the pendent chandelier of colored glass, cut into forms of fruit and foliage, the cabinets and appendages, all belong to the days of the Virgin Queen; whilst the windows open out upon a large and extensive avenue, diminishing to a narrow point in the distance, formed in honor of that great monarch's visit. Beyond the India room is the queen's state bed-room, preserved in all the fashion of 1550, though the silk window-hangings and the coverlid of the sleeping-couch are now faded and tattered with age. The cabinet still holds the innumerable receptacles for the toilet conveniences